


Don't Die Without Me

by toastwithjilly



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Best Friends to Lovers, Blood, Broken Bones, Broken Promises, Comedy, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Funny, Good friendship, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Cream, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Other, Physical Abuse, Rescue Missions, Sarcasm, Slow Burn, Torture, Unrequited Love, Wit, what I like to think is character develpomentt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastwithjilly/pseuds/toastwithjilly
Summary: Dying, Jason thought, was relatively easy. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but once you accepted your fate, a sense of calm enveloped you. It was welcoming and safe. There is nothing safer than dying. It was living Jason had a problem with.





	1. Sweet Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my first writing posted here on Ao3. Please enjoy and recognize that I take creative liberties and write the characters how I see them (read: my own cannon). I do accept CONSTRUCTIVE criticism and love feed back (feed my ego please) Thanks for reading! also, were starting a little so bc I like to write ending and work backwards. oops.

Dying, Jason thought, was relatively easy. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but once you accepted your fate, a sense of calm enveloped you. It was welcoming and safe. There is nothing safer than dying. It was living Jason had a problem with.  
…

“So here’s the plan.” You were crouched behind a stack of wooden crates barely higher than your hip at your full height, laying out the strategy to your team. Three pairs of eyes gazed at you, some more attentive than others. “We’re gonna stick to a tight formation, sweep pattern.” 

All you got was a few dull blinks in recognition. Tim was half asleep, Steph was messing with Tim, and Duke just didn’t have that killer instinct. 

You exhaled through your nose, giving up hope. The teams were stacked. There was no way that your rag-tag little team was going to win against Jason “sharp shooter” Todd, Dick “acrobat” Grayson, Damian “actual assassin” Wayne, and Bruce “no chill” Wayne. 

No way. 

Unless… 

You called in a ringer.  
...  
“You suck!” Jason was angry, which, in all honesty, was pretty fair. 

“And you swallow, Jaybird. Your point?” You were smirking hard, knowing exactly what Jason was talking about. But you played dumb and stole a lick of Jason’s ice cream instead. 

“My point is that you’re a little shit for calling in Alfred to a game of fucking laser tag.” Jason tried to get a lick of your ice cream in retaliation, but you smooshed the entire cone into his face instead, darting up the street and out of his reach as he wiped the sweet cream out of his eyes. You were done with the sweet anyways, and now you had a show to go with your dinner. 

“Well, maybe if the teams had been a little more even, I wouldn’t have had to.” You were still giggling when Jason caught up to you about fifty feet later. He still had some green in his eyebrows from your mint ice cream. It was adorable. 

“You’re gonna pay for that. You realize that, right?” Jason’s threat didn’t exactly resonate with you. He was all bark, no bite and you both knew it. Still, you humored him. 

“My bestest friend in the entire world, the amazing and fantastic Jason Peter Todd.” You dropped to one knee in front of Jason, bowing your head, as dramatic as possible. “My deepest and sincerest apologies. Please, my liege, forgive me. I’ll do whatever you say.”

Jason laughed from deep within his chest, a sound you could hear for the rest of time. “Forgiveness cannot be bought. Only earned.” He lowered his voice by about two octaves, playing along with your charade. 

“Fair enough.” You stood and brushed off your jeans, reminding yourself that you needed to get a new pair. And to re paint your nails. They weren’t chipped or anything (not that you’d let it get to that point), but you were starting to get tired of the color. “Can I have a piggy back ride?”

“I don’t know. Can you?” Jason knew that saying that would get on your nerves. But maybe you deserved it for the ice cream. 

“I get that you’re studying to get your master’s degree, but if you say that to me again, I will take you out at the knee caps.” You grabbed Jason’s face and pulled it down till his eyes were level with yours. “Now then. Piggy back ride?” 

“Sure, I’d love one.” After you let out a sigh bigger than Bruce’s problem with adopting orphans, Jason crouched a little to allow you to jump onto his back. 

It was almost dusk, and wanting to sneak in a power nap before patrol, you rested your head against Jason’s broad shoulder and let the rhythm of his footsteps lull you to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so… right now I'm trying to build character development and plot development so thats what were doing. I also like to write from the back up, so I know where I'm going but not where ive come from ya know?

“So, late night dinner at my place tonight, right?” You swung up onto the gargoyle next to Dick, who appeared to be deep in thought. Probably about his hair.

“Depends. What are you making?” Dick looked up at you and threw you a lazy grin, and you knew he was about to make some teasing comment. “What are you making?” 

“First, I’m offended. Everything, every single thing, I make is amazing.” You raised your eyebrows at Dick and ticked the reasons off on your fingers as you went. “Second, Panera mac and cheese.” 

“Late dinner at your place then.” You sighed and tossed a bit of lint you picked off your uniform at him playfully. 

“What were you thinking about?” You tucked your knee up under your chin and wrapped your arms around your leg, letting the other leg dangle in the open air. 

“I was thinking, before you so rudely interrupted me, about our family.” Dick leaned his back up against the cold stone wall of the building the two of your were loitering on. 

“What about our family?” Patrol was slow, and you hadn’t talked to Dick in a while, so you figured now was the perfect time to catch up.

“Just… about it. What’s changed since Bruce took me in all those years ago.” Dick let out a soft chuckle with his words. 

“For one, the number of children he has.” Bruce’s love for adoption was subject to many, many jokes around the manor, even Alfred letting loose a couple here and there. 

“True.” You both made eye contact and dissolved into laughter, feeling the lightness of the night air for once. “No, but I was really thinking about how lucky we are. There’s, like, nine of us, including Alfred, and we fight crime for a living. And, despite that, we’ve stayed nine. We haven’t lost anyone, you know?” 

“Except our parents and Jason, but go off I guess.” You snickered when Dick gave you a hard side eye. 

“You know what I meant. And Jason doesn’t count because he didn’t stay dead.” Dick went back to his pensive position. 

“Ah, the awful ones never do.” You sighed dramatically and leaned back against the wall as well, mirroring Dick. 

“I heard that, asshole.” Both you and Dick jumped at the sound of another voice, apparently joining you. After turning and glancing at a red and shining bucket atop a tall frame, you returned to your previous position. 

“Don’t eavesdrop. Won’t be a problem.” Dick was always down to bond with siblings, so while he may not have minded Jason’s presence, you could tell he had wanted to finish speaking to you, airing out his mind. 

You just chuckled at Dick’s words, standing up and brushing yourself off. 

“I’d better get back to patrol. Bye Dick.” 

Dick managed a mediocre wave. 

“Don’t die without me, Jaybird.” You smirked and mock saluted your best friend. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The last thing you saw was him crossing his arms before the world started to spin as you tumbled through the air. And you knew he was smirking under his helmet.   
...

“Turns out, the night isn’t as quiet as we thought, guys.” Your words were even despite you having to dodge a roundhouse coming right at you. 

“Coordinates. Now.” Bruce’s gruff voice crackled over the comms, demanding and gruff as ever. 

“Coordinates. Now.” Next came Steph, ever the problem child, mocking her father dearest. 

“Old warehouse on main.” This time, you went on the offensive, punching two goons and flipping another over your shoulder and onto the floor. “I think Cobblepot, but I’m not sure.” 

“Okay. I’m not even going to question why you didn’t do the proper investigating before you started throwing punches. Instead, I would just like to know what the numbers are looking like.” Bruce was a tired dad. He was a tired, tired man who needed coffee more than his co-CEO. You kind of liked him better when he was like this, mainly because he was too tired to question you. 

“For your information, I don’t know either.” This got you a round of laughs from Steph, Dick and Jason. “I do know that these people were not exactly gracious hosts to me.” 

“You’re joking!” You could hear the air swooshing around Dick as grappled through the streets of Gotham, clearly on his way to your location. “Did they even offer you a drink? Some sort of refreshment, perhaps?” 

“None. It was abhorrent.” You continued fighting your way through the thugs, just trying to get away and reassess the situation. 

“What is this world coming to?” Jason piped up now, almost being drowned out by the sound of his motorcycle engine roaring as he went faster and faster. 

Tim was the first to show up to your aide. 

“Wow, they really rolled out the red carpet for us, huh?” Tim jumped right into the fray, finding him fighting back to back with you almost immediately. 

“For sure.” Between the two of you, you manage to get the rest of the criminals defeated rather quickly. All said and done, there were about twenty of them laying on the ground in varying levels of pain when you were finished. By the time the rest of the family showed up, you and Tim had already tied everyone up, gone and got coffee, and had time to begin discussing the pros and cons of sleep. 

“Took you guys long enough.” Tim downed the last of his red eye and tossed the cup on the ground, promising to pick it up later. 

“Yeah. If this were life or death, we’d be dead.” You were still sipping on your own beverage, not quite ready to give up it’s warmth. Jason did come and steal a sip or two from you, though. You just gave him an elbow to the ribs in return. 

“So, what are we thinking? Why were there so many people here?” Bruce got right down to business, serious as ever under the Batman cowl. 

“No telling. There were a few faces that looked familiar, but I have no telling from where.” You were trying to place them, but your past (and your memories) had more than a few holes in it.

“Find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on Tumblr @jasontodddeserveslove ! thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

“Oooh. Find out.” You were pacing the room, still bitter over Bruce’s words. “God. Who does he think he is? Trauma doesn't work like that, Bruce.”

Jason snorted from across the room. He was flipping a knife tip over tip in his hand, lounging on the armrest of a chair. 

“Like that man knows how trauma, or coping with it, works.” Jason was starting to get tired of Bruce making everything about him. No one was ever allowed to heal or move on, mainly because Bruce couldn’t. 

“Whatever. Back to the problem at hand.” You turned to Jason only to find an empty space and a knife embedded in the same armrest he had just been sitting on. Figures. Jason always got a little uncomfortable when you tried to retrace you past around him. You liked someone there with you to help you keep it straight in your head, but for Jason it was a little more painful than for everyone else, especially since your trauma hit so close to home. 

Oh, well. Another time. 

In all honesty, you wanted a break. A nice long break. Full of laughter and good food. 

So you went to go find Tim. 

It wasn’t because you still wanted to walk through your past. That was way too much (heavy) trauma for today. 

No, you sought out Tim because you needed some fun. You needed support. You needed your family. Traipsing through the old mansion was, in it’s own special way, a walk down memory lane. Sometimes you liked taking the long way around, staring at the portraits and paintings that should have been covered in dust. Looking at all the oldest Waynes and the way they carried themselves. Maybe they weren’t technically your ancestors, but in so many ways they were. And so you wanted to do them proud. Make them proud. 

Make your own ancestors proud. 

Make your parents proud. 

It had been awhile since you had visited them. Well, their graves. 

Much like everyone else in the family, you, too, were an orphan. But unlike everyone else, your childhood had been happy. 

Your parents loved you. A lot. They gave you everything that you could have ever wanted but still instilled strong morals and ideals in you. You played board games after dinner every night, and there wasn’t a day that went by where they didn’t tell you that they were proud of you. 

But that was gone. 

God, it felt like lifetimes ago. 

The fiery crash. Seeing your father’s face as he told you he was proud of you one last time. 

Maybe your memory of the past had a few holes, but watching your parents die was a hard thing to forget.

Sometimes you wished your memory was a little more spotty. 

Just as a lone tear streaked down your face, you heard footsteps in the hallway behind you. 

“So, you’re reliving shit without the rest of us again, huh?” You had been furiously swiping at your eyes and the tear at your face in the effort to hide your pain from whomever was in the hallway. But, when you heard Tim speak up, your resolve gave away. 

“As opposed to with you? Group therapy has never been our thing.” You pressed your back against the wall in the hallway and slid down to a sitting position on the floor. 

“Let’s be real. Therapy in general has never been our thing.” Tim took a seat across from you in the hallway and took a slurp from the coffee in his hands before passing it to you. “But I can’t just sit by while you suffer and do nothing.”

“Yeah, well.” You sighed and knocked back a gulp of the coffee like a shot. “I shut everyone out. Don’t take it personally, it’s just easier.” 

“Considering we all do in this family, if I did try to take it personally, I would be mad at everyone all the time.” Tim looked disappointed, but not mad. 

He was frustrated, to say the least. You were his rock, his stability. Everything that happened to him, good or bad, was shared with you. And you always supported him, no matter what. You helped him talk about his feelings, helped him heal and move on. 

Hell, you were like that for almost everyone in the family. 

So no wonder it hurt him so much to know that you had no one to do the same for you. 

You pushed yourself up off the floor and then pulled Tim up as well. 

“No more moping around for us, kiddo.” The time for feelings was during the night on top of gargoyles or when you were absolutely certain no one was around to see you cry. Not now. Not with Tim, who needed you to be strong. 

“What are we doing?” Tim, forever the skeptic, was always questioning you when you were going to drag him somewhere without telling him anything. 

“Calm down, Tim. Live in the moment.” You gave Tim your most convincing I’m-not-suspicious-you-should-totally-trust-me smile. 

And to your surprise, it worked.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on Tumblr! @jasontodddeserveslove


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